Saturday 31 August 2013

Father's Day is just like any other day, only with a sleep in and presents

I'm not sure about older kids, but I can tell you with babies, they're the boss of you. Bedtime is up to them; when and how much they eat is up to them; and if you're looking forward to something, you can bet they'll mess with that, too. So when I get a little win, I feel quite pleased about myself. I take a moment to congratulate myself, even though its unlikely I had any influence on the outcome. Whatever. I take what I can get. Here's a list of mini wins that keep even the most thumbed parents feeling in control and chuffed with themselves:
  1. Every time my little fella swallows the medication I've hidden in his food, I whisper to myself, "Sucker!" I have a success rate of about 40%, but I think that counts as a win.
  2. We use cloth nappies at home, so on the odd occasion he wears a disposable nappy and does and epic poo, I feel like a deserve a pat on the back for avoiding an unpleasant clean up (or more unpleasant, I should say). I think our washing machine would thank me if he could, too.
  3. Ditto when he's at child care or being baby sat. Woo hoo! One less poonami to deal with! (sorry, mum).
  4. Babies fall over all the time, happily with less frequency as they get older. When the little dude falls hard and doesn't cry? Yeah, I put that down to my skilled parenting the area of Hard Knocks. He's tough as nuts, and it's all down to me. In reality, he probably saw something shiny on the way down and decided tasting it was more important that letting me know he has an owie.
  5. Overall, our little wonder is a pretty good eater. He likes most things, most days. However, it's rare he eats the whole meal. But when he does, it isn't because he was really hungry. Nope, it was my brilliant cooking that taps into exactly what babes love to eat. It's a skill, and really, I'm not sure it can be taught. 
  6. You're all familiar with O's relationship with sleep (they hate each other). It's illogical, but when he falls asleep without too much fuss, or if he sleeps for more than 3 hours straight, I totally cheer myself for my flawless execution of the bedtime routine. I know it has little to do with me, and that it's more likely the influence of the moon and the magnetic field that is surrounding our home at the time, or fairy dust, or voodoo, but it still feels like a tick next to my name in the parenting column. Of course, the next night I have no idea what I did, and am racking my brains at 9.30pm as to what the magic combination was the previous night. That shit can send you round the bend.
I can't think of anything else right now, as I was up until 3.30 am with a baby who couldn't decide if he should sleep or party like it's 2099.

And I suppose, since it's Father's Day, I should wake the old man and give him the handmade gift he will treasure forever (children: the gift that keeps on giving. Just kidding. I totally made him part of his present this year). Or I could play around on the net a while longer, and when he gets up to go to the loo, put in my breakfast order...

Happy Father's Day to all the wonderful daddies out there. I know I couldn't live without my dad or Owen's!

Sunday 4 August 2013

It is a truth universally acknowledged...

As I was making myself some toast at 4.30 this morning (O was happily emptying Tupperware* onto the kitchen floor), I was thinking about Mr Darcy - er, I  mean, Pride and Prejudice. I realised that, yes, whilst a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife who, when they first meet, can't stand the sight of him, and rejects his first proposal of marriage, then conveniently changes her mind after seeing his massive home and finding out that he's really nice to the help, there are quite a few other universal truths out there**:

It is a truth universally acknowledged that...
  • ...a mother dragged out of bed at 4am to play must be in want of peanut butter on toast. With an Oreo chaser. 
  • ...a baby with a room full of toys will be in want of the big blue button on the DVD player, and will climb over his own mother to get to it.
  • ...a mother who's son is in possession of toys that have 6 tinny songs in their repertoire will be in want of a hammer and five minutes alone with the lot of them.
  • ...fathers will pretend to sleep through anything. Put it to the test next time your baby is bawling at 4am.
  • ...your baby will play happily by himself at 5am until he realises you're on a roll with a post for your neglected parenting blog. And then he will assist by deleting half of it.
  • ...a baby in possession of a tongue will want to lick everything, especially the bottom of his mother's slippers.
  • ...a baby in possession of teeth will be like one of those Cockney kids in the movies who tests the coin by biting on it when the Gentleman flicks it his way. Except your baby tests everything but coins (and small batteries and bread bag ties etc). They're a choking hazard. Also, he's too small to earn his keep, so no pocket money til later.
  • ...a mother who has been up with her son since 4am will not be able to go back to sleep at 6am now that he's finally down again.
  • ...she will try, drop off at 6.59, get woken by baby, say some choice words, and make daddy deal with breakfast while she tries to get 15 minutes more.
  • It is a truth universally acknowledge that the scene where Mr Darcy dives into the lake is completely unnecessary but so damn hawt so who cares?
  • It is a truth universally acknowledged that a mother who has had 4 hours of broken sleep in a night will type a ridiculous blog post based on the greatest story ever told (wait... hang on...) and assume everyone will know what the hell she's talking about.
Oh, and one more thing: it is a truth universally acknowledged that a child in possession of a good mother will be loved and cherished, and will get away with doing this all over again tomorrow night because he's just so darn sweet, but his mother will make sure she reminds him of it when he has children and is complaining about being tired.

*Just kidding. It's that cheap crap from Ikea that stains and buckles if you look at it sideways.
**I'm literally typing what I see. He really does like to lick the bottom of my slippers. And you know what? I let him. I'm just that good a parent.

One more for the road. You're welcome, ladies.

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